Hot Pursuit (To Catch a Thief Book 1)

by Kay Marie

  “Thank you.”

  He stared at her.

  She stared at him.

  He raised his brows wryly.

  Jo looked down at her coffee and lifted it to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry too, Agent Parker.”

  “What?” he questioned, lips pursing. “I couldn’t hear you.”

  Is he actually teasing me? Teasing me!

  Who is this man?

  “I said I’m sorry, Nathaniel,” Jo drawled.

  “You can call me Nate.”

  “Nate,” she said, enjoying the way his name sounded rolling through her lips. Nate. Nate. Straightforward. Simple. “Well, Nate, I’m sorry for bringing up your father.” That sting of pain burned in his eyes once again, dark streaks of sapphire cutting through his irises. “It was wrong of me. I know nothing about him. And as I’m sure you know, I understand the pain of losing a parent, and I can’t believe I went there. I never should have, and I never will again.”

  He nodded his gratitude.

  Jo looked away from the intensity of his gaze, worried that maybe for all her hard work, he could still see straight through her. And she wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t here out of the goodness of his heart. He had an agenda. There was no denying it.

  “So, why exactly are you here, Nate? Not that I’m complaining, of course—just curious why you went from stalking me one day to greeting me with baked goods the next.”

  “I’m trying to understand you.”

  She pinched her brows. “Understand me?”

  To what end…?

  “Yes, Jo. You’re a riddle I’m trying to solve, and I thought the best way to go about it would actually be to talk to you. Directly.”

  “You have to admit,” Jo countered. “It’s a little unorthodox, for a federal agent and his target to sit and have a casual conversation as…friends.”

  He shrugged. “It is.”

  “You don’t strike me as unorthodox.”

  “You do,” he stated matter-of-factly, a little challenge in his voice, a dare that—dammit!—she wanted to take.

  This is exactly what Thad was worried about, Jo argued with herself as she leaned back and took another sip of her coffee, analyzing the man before her. Thad knows me better than I know myself. He told me not to get too close. Not to play with fire. We can’t afford to get burned.

  And yet, Jo was intrigued.

  Maybe she wanted to understand Nate better too. Because she thought for sure she’d had Mr. Stiff all figured out, but watching him now—collar unbuttoned, sandy-blond hair casually tousled from a breeze, strong line of his jaw accented by the subtle uplift of his lips, a taunt shining brightly in those crystal eyes—Jo was beginning to think she didn’t know him at all. And the hacker inside of her demanded to unravel his secrets, to decode the mystery in his eyes, to find all her answers. Breaking and entering was in her blood. If there was a crack in his defenses, she’d find it.

  “Okay, Nate,” she said, sitting up and putting her coffee on the table. Jo rested her elbows on her knees, leaning forward, leaning into his personal space. “You’re in luck, because the only thing I had on my agenda today was exploring New York, and I wouldn’t mind doing it with…a new friend. But I want to establish some guidelines, okay?”

  He held his hands wide, unconcerned. “Go ahead.”

  “First”—Jo held up her pointer finger—“no mentioning my father or Thad.”

  Nate tilted his head, the corners of his eyes narrowing a hair as he examined her. “Okay.”

  “Second,” Jo continued, “no asking me questions you know I can’t answer.”

  “Done,” he agreed smoothly.

  “Third, no talk about jail, or locking me up, or evidence, or calling me a criminal, or anything like that. No work. Only fun. The way I like it.”

  Nate nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Finally,” Jo said slowly, leaning a little bit closer, not even trying to hide the mischief she knew sparkled in her eyes, “you have to play by my rules.”

  “I wasn’t aware you had any,” Nate answered, leaning forward to put his coffee down on the table, and staying there, so their faces rested no more than a foot apart, close enough for the air between them to heat up a notch…or three.

  A sly smile spread across her face. “That’s the beauty of it.”

  Nate clenched his jaw, chiseled muscles ticking twice before releasing. “I won’t do anything illegal.”

  “What do you take me for?” Jo rolled her eyes.

  Nate lifted a brow. “Well, I’ve been banned from mentioning the word.”

  Touché. “Nothing illegal.”

  “Then done.” He sat up and extended his hand, offering to seal the deal.

  “Done.” Jo held his gaze and slid her fingers forward. A spike of fire blasted up her arm as their skin touched, palm to palm. He tried to tug away, but she held on, forcing him to hold her stare. “One more thing.”

  He sighed and tilted his head to the side, tossing her a not-at-all-surprised and completely expectant look. Guess I’m more predictable than I thought.

  Jo let him have his hand back, though she couldn’t help but notice how her own felt suddenly cold when he pulled away. “Before we begin our grand adventure, I want to establish a little bit of trust. We each get to ask the other a question, one question, whatever we want, according to our previously established guidelines, of course. And we have to answer truthfully. I’m sure you have a whole file on me at the office. You know I have a whole file on you in my securely hidden away computer. I want to dig deeper, even the playing field, stir up some confidence between us.”

  He scrunched his brows together, unable to hide the curious twitch of his lips. “Who goes first?”

  “Me, of course.”

  Jo took another sip of coffee and leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers on the cup as questions circulated in the back of her mind. She needed something to throw him off a little, to force him to open up.

  First kiss?

  No, she’d gone the salacious route too much already with him. It was what he’d expect.

  Most embarrassing moment?

  The edge of her lip curved—it was probably what she’d put him through yesterday. And even if not, she’d teased enough. She wanted something real. Something deeper.

  And then she had it.

  “What’s the worst rule you’ve ever broken? Ever? In your life?”

  Nate was Mr. Goody Two-shoes, Mr. Black and White, Mr. Secret Agent Man. She wanted to knock him off his high horse a bit. Bring him back down to earth. Back down to where she lived.

  Well, maybe not quite that low. But still…

  “Hmm…” He put his head back against the seat and looked to the ceiling as he rubbed his thumb over his clean-shaven chin, drawing her attention to his strong, sturdy hands. Though she was sure that bit was unintentional, and the part where her mind wandered to what that thumb could do against her body definitely was.

  Jo cleared her throat and shifted her weight.

  He dropped his eyes to her for a moment, curious, but then a lightbulb seemed to ignite. “Oh, I know. In sixth grade, there was this kid a year above me who was always picking on all my friends because we were smaller and younger. And one day, I’d had enough. So I planned an elaborate ruse to lure him out to the sixth grader part of the schoolyard during recess, and just launched on him before he understood what was happening. I got in a sucker punch right to the nose before he had a chance to fire back. I think I broke it. Anyway, my dad had taught me a few tricks, so I could hold my own against someone bigger than me. When the teachers finally pulled us apart, I blamed everything on him. They knew he was a bully. I started crying to push my point. So, they sent me to the nurse, but sent him home with a one-week suspension.”

  Jo stared at him. “That’s it? That’s your big bad? Taking down the class bully. You were probably a hero for the rest of the year.”

  “Maybe.” Nate shrugged. Then he shuddered, remembering som
ething she wasn’t privy to. “I was punished when I got home, believe me.”

  Jo wrinkled her nose. “You rebel, you.”

  “Look, we didn’t all have the luxury of—” Nate cut himself off, curling his hands into fists as his gaze dropped to the ground. But it wasn’t anger written across his face. It was pain.

  Jo softened her tone. “Have the luxury of what?”

  “I…” He paused, lifting his gaze to hers. There was a question in his eyes, silently asking how much he could trust her, how much he should tell her, how much she already knew. And then he sighed, stretched his fingers, and took a deep breath. “I was twelve when my dad passed away. My mom was inconsolable. My younger brother was already a little rascal, but without my dad around, he got worse. And my sister needed someone she could depend on, someone to be strong. So I became that person to them. I had to grow up, fast. And part of growing up is learning the rules and following them, being a role model. Not all of us had the luxury of youth.”

  He finished quietly, almost like a confession.

  Deep in her chest, something stung, a familiar ache.

  She’d only been fourteen when her mother died, but where Nate’s mother had turned weak, her father had been strong. There were no siblings she’d had to worry about. No one she’d needed to take care of. Instead of growing up, Jo had held on to her childhood for all it was worth. In many ways, she still was holding on to the past, onto Daddy’s little girl, the one who was too afraid to turn into a woman without her mother around to guide her.

  “Okay,” Jo told him.

  “Okay?” he asked, unabashed surprise in his voice that she wasn’t pressing for more information.

  “Your turn.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “So, what is it about baking?”

  Of all the questions in the world!

  “Really?” she blurted, unable to rein in the snort that followed it. Very unladylike. Not at all sexy. Yet it still made him smile. “You’re so hung up on my baking. Must have really impressed you with my coopies.”

  Jo winked.

  He arched a brow. “You got a question. I get a question too.”

  That wasn’t a denial.

  But instead of retorting, Jo bit her lip to keep the remark in and sighed. He was right. He’d been open and honest, and he deserved the same from her. That was the whole point of this exercise, after all—to prove to each other they were more than cop and criminal. They were human.

  “I don’t really know. I’ve always loved it,” Jo began, blinking quickly to stifle the sudden pools of water in her eyes as her memories rewound, to a place she rarely ever went—the place before her life flipped upside down and turned into what it was today. “All my best memories are in the kitchen. Every Christmas morning, my mom and I would wake up early while my dad put out the presents, and we’d bake a fresh batch of cinnamon buns in the shape of a tree. And the day after Thanksgiving, we’d spend hours making gingerbread men and decorating gingerbread cottages and castles and haunted mansions, until the entire house smelled of allspice and nutmeg. On Easter, she always made the best carrot cake, one I still haven’t been able to perfect no matter how many times I try. And when my dad was away on business, sometimes we’d skip dinner altogether and just put a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven, then dip them in milk, for the calcium she always said, and eat until our bellies hurt.”

  Jo couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of the two of them curled on the couch, clutching their stomachs in pain, taking just one more bite as a romantic comedy played on the screen. A girl’s weekend. Her favorite kind.

  She swallowed the clog in her throat and continued, flicking her gaze to Nate’s. As soon as she noticed the sympathy and understanding in his eyes, she looked away. Because it was too much right then, too endearing. “I got my first Easy-Bake oven when I was eight, and it’s still the best present I ever received. I used it all the time, until the knobs were gray with wear because the pink had rubbed off. But it was the best. And even after my mom died, I couldn’t stop. The kitchen became painful at times, an escape at others, but the baking remained. A constant. I always wanted to go to culinary school, but, well…” Jo shrugged and scratched her nails against her empty coffee cup, just to have something to do. “Life happened, as they say.”

  Her gaze darted to Nate.

  His lips were drawn in a line and his brows were pressed together with something almost like worry or concern…maybe even caring. “Okay.”

  Jo rolled her lips into her mouth, but they spread into a smile anyway. “Okay.”

  He stood abruptly, grabbed the muffin wrappers from the table, and crunched both of their empty coffee cups in his hands before depositing them into a garbage bin nearby. And then he walked back and stood over her chair, offering her a hand.

  “Jolene Carter, I’m at your mercy.”

  She took the help he offered, letting his more-than-capable biceps pull her to a standing position. “Why, Agent Parker, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said.”

  Just like that, a silent truce was established.

  And maybe something else too.

  Something she was too afraid to acknowledge as she shook her hand free and strutted out the door, leaving him to follow in her wake as she led him on what was sure to be both the greatest and most annoying day of his life.

  - 14 -

  Nate

  When Jo said she’d saved this day to explore New York City, she’d meant explore. Good lord. They’d spent three hours on a bus tour—a hop-on, hop-off double-decker bus tour under the relentless heat of the sun with stops everywhere. From Battery Park on the southernmost tip of Manhattan, where Jo had forced him to pose for a photograph with the Statue of Liberty in the background, to Times Square, which had provided nothing more than a headache from the lights and noise, to the Empire State Building, where she’d somehow produced VIP tickets to take the elevator to the top. Nate still wasn’t convinced everything about that particular stop had been legal, but he was trying a new thing with Jolene Carter—trust.

  Hell, he’d tried everything else already.

  By the time they’d hopped back on their eighth tour bus, Nate was pleading for reprieve. And Jo finally relented. They hopped off for a final time near an entrance to Central Park and had been wandering the tree-covered sidewalks ever since.

  “So, you were recruited fresh out of grad school?” Jo asked.

  Her gaze slid curiously to the baseball game happening in the middle of the field they were walking by, and Nate’s followed. Young kids, early teens maybe, judging by their size. A scrawny left-handed batter stepped up to the plate. The pitcher threw. And bam! The ball flew over the shortstop, shooting deep into right field. A cheer erupted from the row of beach chairs set up behind home plate, bringing a soft smile to Nate’s lips.

  “Uh, yeah,” he murmured, trying to focus on the question instead of the Little League memories floating to the surface. His father coaching from the dugout. His mother nervously watching from the bleachers. His brother complaining that he was too young to play. His sister obliviously doing cartwheels along the sidelines. His family had spent many a Sunday morning on the baseball field…until suddenly, that all stopped. The fun stopped. For a long time, at least.

  Nate blinked and shook his head, turning back to Jo. There was a silent question in her gaze. “Yeah, I graduated with my master’s in criminal justice. My mother wanted me to go to law school, but I always knew I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps and join the bureau. So that’s what I did.”

  Jo dropped her gaze to the pavement beneath their feet and then lifted it back up, but this time her eyes were brighter, more intense. Probing. “Can you tell me about them? Your family, I mean? You said you have a brother and a sister?”

  They’d been keeping it relatively surface level since leaving the hotel, nothing too personal, nothing too deep. There was a line they couldn’t cross, not yet. Not unless he got her a deal and she agreed to
it. Jo wasn’t stupid enough to incriminate herself. He wasn’t stupid enough to give her any ammo she could use against him. But that line was as deep as the Grand Canyon, and there was a whole mess of exploring they could do without having to cross it. If they wanted to. If they dared.

  Nate’s attention slipped back to the baseball game as another cheer erupted, but the sound made his gut tighten into a knot, coiled and painful and uncertain. He kept his memories on lockdown, carefully stored and bolted shut. Or at least he had, before today. Before Jo and her questions undid all his defenses.

  “My mother is a gentle soul,” Nate began slowly, returning his focus to Jo and the green of her eyes, a green that was becoming less and less like hard, unbreakable jade, and more and more like a shadowy forest inviting him to come inside and explore its secrets. “Couldn’t hurt a fly. My father had always been the enforcer, and my mom the shoulder to cry on. She gives and gives and gives without ever taking. I truly believe there’s nothing but love in her heart, no capacity for hate or even anger really.”

  I had to learn how to do those things for her, Nate silently finished the thought, frowning. He had to hate the people who killed his father so one day justice could be found. He had to get angry when his brother got in fights, when his sister broke the rules. He had to learn discipline and dole it out, because his mother had never known how. But he took those burdens on willingly, before he fully understood them, because even as a boy he knew he never wanted his mother to change. He didn’t want to live in a world where her soft heart learned to harden.

  Jo studied him.

  Nate coughed and kept his eyes forward. “My brother, Chris, was a terror as a teen, but he eventually got his act together. Now he owns his own construction company building houses in Virginia. Married with a little girl and a baby on the way. And Caroline, my sister, only graduated from college about a year ago, so she’s still figuring things out. For now, she’s working as my mom’s interior design assistant and helping her at home.” He shrugged, turning back to Jo, who had stars in her eyes. “Just your typical family.”